


Home for the Holidays

by Blackbird Song (Blackbird_Song)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Challenge Response, First Time, Holidays, Jewish Character, Jewish Holidays, K/S Advent Calendar, Loneliness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 18:49:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2864075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackbird_Song/pseuds/Blackbird%20Song
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock figures out that Jim has nowhere to go for the holidays after a massive debriefing at Starfleet and subsequent shore leave on Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home for the Holidays

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the K/S Advent Calendar of 2014 (see End Notes for prompt). Many thanks to my husband for the beta.

 

Starfleet's debriefing has taken up five days, thirteen hours, seven minutes and thirty-two point nine seconds of the _Enterprise_ crew's allotted shore leave time of fourteen days. Spock can't help noting a sense that they're attempting to find sufficient fault with Jim Kirk to demote him or possibly oust him from the organization. And while Spock takes a certain satisfaction – to which he'll never admit – in the loyalty the crew have shown his friend, he is also experiencing irritation in having to undergo such rigors yet again.

The circumstances surrounding Admiral Marcus's death, Jim's death and restoration to life and Khan's cryogenic incarceration do require ongoing, in-depth analysis and probative questions, as does the particularly troubling act of triggering a religion on Nibiru. And it is not difficult to remember that Kirk is still less than optimally experienced as a commander and prone to disobeying a startling number of very logical Starfleet regulations. But Spock is less impressed than he once was by Starfleet. And he is also worried about Jim. He has given up telling himself that such an emotion is illogical. He lost Nyota by doing that and will make things difficult amongst the other humans with whom he serves if he keeps denying that he has a human half.

He misses Nyota. This is illogical because they still serve together. But he misses the comfort of knowing in such a physical way that he is loved. This, too, is an illogical emotion – three of them, in fact. And as he is trying to manage this recursion loop of illogic, he is reminded that he'd stopped looking ahead as he collides all but headlong into another being in a Starfleet uniform.

"You trying to kill me again, Spock?" Jim Kirk sounds winded, peeved and slightly amused.

Spock helps to stabilize him before letting go. "Apologies, Captain. I should have been looking where I was going."

"Lost in thought?"

"Apparently," Spock replies, hearing the irritation in his own voice.

Jim peers at him, ducking slightly to compensate for the brim of his hat. "Are you okay?"

"I am functioning at peak efficiency."

"Then why did you run into me? With those Vulcan senses of yours, I'd expect you to hear me breathing at, oh—"

"Five point seven meters in this environment."

Jim blinks. "Wow. And yet you still collided with me."

Spock stifles the sigh that has been plaguing him since the debriefing began five days, fourteen hours...he forces himself to stop thinking about the wasted time, though he still has to work at keeping himself from expelling that sigh. "I am perplexed by certain attitudes and practices that seem ... disproportionate."

Jim gives him a startled look. "Do you want to go get a drink where we can legally talk about it?"

"Such an opportunity would be welcome, had I not booked transportation that departs in four minutes and twenty-two seconds."

"Oh. Okay, I'll just get out of your way."

Spock is about to push past Jim in the bustle of people at the transportation hub when he parses the timbre of Jim's voice. "Are you all right, Captain?"

"Yes, Spock, thanks for asking. I'm ... functioning at peak efficiency." Jim smiles at him, but something about it does not seem complete. "Hey, you'd better get moving, right? Four minutes isn't much time."

 _Three minutes, fifty-four seconds,_ Spock wants to say, but doesn't. "In this case, that is accurate." And suddenly he's unsure how to leave. "I ... wish you a good shore leave."

"Thanks. Same to you, Spock." There's warmth and something else in Jim's voice – a quality that was in Nyota's words when she was beginning to worry about their relationship. It tears at something inside Spock as Jim brushes past him without further interaction.

Three minutes and forty-one seconds later, Spock blames that reaction for impeding his efficiency of movement as he watches his transport depart two seconds before he could reach the door. A quick search reveals that the next available transport to Boston forces him to find something with which to occupy himself for three point two-six hours.

Noting for the third time his increased difficulty restraining himself from uttering expletives since his last encounter with Khan, he makes his way to the officers rec area to inform his aunt of his situation and to finish the work he'd planned for the morning. He orders mint tea at the bar and scans the quiet section, noting that only one chair in it is occupied. He freezes until the bartender gives him his tea. Then he goes without hesitation to the quiet section to stand in front of Jim Kirk.

"Whatever you—Spock?" Jim blinks up at him. "You missed your transport. I'm sorry."

"It is of no consequence. There is another in three point – a little more than three hours."

Jim winces. "Ouch! That's an awful lot of time to kill. Care to join me?"

"That would be acceptable." Spock remains standing.

"Could you maybe sit down? That way I don't have to crane my neck when we're talking. If you want to talk, that is."

Spock sits without comment and sips at his tea. And then he notices that Jim has nothing in front of him. It seems odd that a Starfleet captain would be sitting alone in a recreation area without food, drink, recreation or work. He thinks of all the possibilities before asking, "Do you await transport also?"

"No. I just ... needed some time to gather my thoughts."

"That is understandable. You will tell me, should my presence interfere."

"You'd be the first to know."

Spock glances at Jim over his tea and calculates. "May I ask ... will you be visiting your mother during shore leave?"

"No."

Spock waits.

"She's off-planet for a while."

"That would make such a reunion difficult at this time."

"Did you just crack a joke?" The smile spreading over Jim's face is dazzling.

"Merely a logical acknowledgement of current vicissitudes."

Jim's smile halts but does not cease. "Yes. How about your ... current vicissitudes?"

"I am required to visit my mother's sister. She plans to introduce me to the celebration of Hanukkah."

Jim's face 'lights up', as Nyota would say. "Hanukkah? Really? You'll kill 'em at dreidel!"

Spock frowns. "I believe that no children are to be attending the celebration."

"All the better; you'll win all the gelt!"

"That would not be practical."

"Why not?"

"Vulcans become inebriated on chocolate," Spock replies tightly.

Jim's eyes widen. "Are you serious?"

"Always."

"Of course you are." Jim's smile diminishes.

Spock processes ninety-two pieces of subject-specific information within two point seven seconds, concluding that Jim has no relevant plans for the Terran winter holiday season. He takes three point one seconds to address his cowardice concerning the one logical solution he can conceive and another six point eight seconds to determine the most efficient method of delivering it before saying, "I would be grateful if you accompanied me, Jim."

Jim's facial expressions indicate a desire to lie about his situation, but a relaxation of the superficial muscles in his face signal acceptance of fact. "You don't have to do this, Spock. I can entertain myself for a few days."

Spock experiences a pang of disappointment for which he hadn't prepared. "I am not inconveniencing myself or my aunt by asking you to be my traveling companion. I ... would feel uncomfortable without the presence of a friend."

It would be rude in human or Vulcan society to make note of the increased moisture level in Jim's eyes, however brief. "In that case, I'd be delighted to accept your offer." Jim holds Spock's gaze for a moment before clearing his throat. "Three hours till that transport leaves, huh?"

"Affirmative."

"Well, that gives me time to pick up some things from my place. Want to come along?"

"That would be acceptable."

*****

Jim doesn't understand how he came to be sharing a transport with Spock from San Francisco to Provincetown (by way of Boston), but it'll never stop being great or weird. What's weird is that Spock's the one who's flown across North America like this before while he, Jim, has barely ventured east of the Mississippi River. What's great is that Spock isn't lording it over him or being bristly or tense. He's just being calm and receptive – as receptive as any Vulcan can be – and letting Jim have whatever space is necessary while they are crammed together in close quarters. That makes it great and utterly, utterly weird.

He doesn't feel that he can broach the subject of Spock's breakup with Uhura yet, but it does seem as though she's never too far from his friend's thoughts. There's so much pain on both sides that he's going to have to keep an eye on them both. They're his friends but they're also hugely valuable members of his crew. Each is also too professional to force him to choose between them, but if it came to that, he'd have to get rid of them both.

He doesn't want to do that.

Uhura has impressed him since the night they met in that stupid bar. His initial attraction was overwhelmingly sexual, her refusal all the more attractive because up to that point, he'd rarely been so implacably challenged. Now, she's the most gifted officer he's ever known and a stellar human being he hopes will allow him to be her friend for life. A compliment from her is rarer than tears from a Vulcan and he has never met anyone he wants to impress more.

Except, maybe, Spock.

Spock is ... complicated. When they first met, he wanted to deck the guy and impress him all at the same time. Spock was a constant thwart and thorn in Jim's side from day one and all the more frustrating because it was impossible to get the Vulcan bastard out of his mind. But after the alternate Spock filled every aspect of his being with overwhelming grief and love and need and _knowing_ , things got a whole lot worse. It's a constant struggle having to remember that he isn't the Jim Kirk that went on that decades-long journey with that Spock. It's even harder to cope with the difficulty the Spock sitting next to him has with the concept of friendship. He's not even sure why that troubles him so much. Beyond his psych profiles and necessary self-knowledge, he doesn't want to know why.

*****

Spock's Aunt Miriam is slim, dark-haired, about as tall as Spock's shoulder and, though she has yet to open her mouth, the most riveting person Jim's ever met. She is accompanied by a dark-haired guy who stands no less than two meters high and is maybe ten years younger than she is. She raises her hand in the Vulcan salute. "Live long and prosper, Spock."

Spock returns the gesture. "Peace and long life, Aunt Miriam."

"You honor us with your presence. Is this your captain?"

"Yes." And then, "This is my friend, Captain James T. Kirk."

Jim isn't sure how to process that until Aunt Miriam throws her arms around him, huffing a laugh in his ear. "Forgive me, Captain, but you're the first person Spock has called 'friend'." She pounds him on the back and steps away.

"Please call me Jim," he says.

"Very well, Jim. You may call me Miriam. This is my son, Daniel."

Jim recalibrates his age-estimation skills and holds out his hand to shake. "Pleased to meet you...."

Daniel appraises him.

"Daniel doesn't shake hands right away," says Miriam.

"Apologies," Jim says, withdrawing his hand.

Daniel nods and turns to Spock, lifting his hand in the Vulcan style. "Peace and long life, Spock. It's good to see you again."

"Live long and prosper, Daniel. I am gratified to see you, also."

Daniel grins and swoops down on Spock, lifting him off the ground in a massive bear hug.

Spock, to Jim's eternal amazement, returns the embrace – and something of the smile. "We must sing together."

"Yeah, I've been learning some Vulcan tunes."

"I will correct your accent."

Daniel puts Spock back on the ground and grabs his cousin's bag. "Car's this way." Turning, he glances at Jim. Something seems to soften ever so slightly in his eyes and he gives one nod before turning away and throwing an arm around Spock as they walk.

Miriam puts a hand on Jim's arm. "They've always looked out for each other," she says softly.

"They seem to have a lot in common," he replies. He thinks but doesn't say, _including their instant dislike of me._

*****

Their arrival at Miriam's house is a flurry of people, activity and dogs. It has to be a flurry because nightfall is all but upon them and the menorah must be lit. There's no time to get settled or introduced to anyone, or even be shown their rooms, and Jim feels responsible (and kind of rotten) about the trouble everyone's having to take because he made Spock miss the transport that would have put him there on time.

Someone, perhaps the tall woman in blue or the teenage girl in red, has put the menorah on the table sitting in the bay window in the front of the house. The shamash is already in it. The room quiets as Miriam places a blue candle in the rightmost slot.

She picks up the shamash and waits until there is silence.

"Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech HaOlam, asher kidshanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu l’hadlik ner shel Hanukkah."

Jim remembers the first four words and is glad that only Miriam is speaking.

"Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech HaOlam, she’asah nisim l’avoteinu, b’yamim haheim bazman hazeh."

This time, Jim makes it to 'Melech HaOlam'.

"Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech HaOlam, shehekheyanu, v’kiyamanu vehegianu lazman hazeh."

Unfortunately, Jim still only makes it to 'Melech HaOlam'.

Miriam ignites a match (a very cool old custom to use a wooden one, Jim thinks) and lights the shamash, with which she then lights the blue candle. At that point, she turns around with a huge smile and says, "Happy Hanukkah! And now the men get to wait on us!" She flops down on the sofa along with the woman in blue, who takes her hand and entwines their fingers.

Jim suddenly feels both oddly at home and devastatingly lonely. Before he can fully experience either, a resonant male voice starts singing _Maoz Tsur_ , a song Jim actually does remember. This turns out to be good because the rest of the company quickly join in. Even one of the dogs starts howling, which gets the other two going. As he sings along, he notices Spock and Daniel standing together, Daniel's arm thrown casually over Spock's shoulders. He can't imagine anyone getting Spock's permission to do that, though Daniel's imposing height and likely strength might have left anyone, even a Vulcan, little choice in the matter.

When the song ends, Jim feels a tug on his elbow and looks around and then down to find a dark-haired boy looking up at him. "Hello."

"Hi. I'm Jacob. Who are you?"

"I'm a friend of Spock's."

"Spock doesn't have any friends," says Jacob, peering at him. "Who are you?"

"Captain James T. Kirk. But you can call me Jim." _At least until you get old enough to enroll in Starfleet._

"You're the captain of the _Enterprise_?"

"Yeah. Don't you have any newsfeeds here? They kinda splashed my face all over the Federation, not too long ago, you know?"

"Mom likes to keep us off grid."

"Oh. Is your mom here?"

"Which one?"

"The one who wants to keep you off grid."

"Yeah. She's over there on the couch with Mom."

"You call them both mom?" Jim asks, following Jacob's point to Miriam and the woman in blue. "Must get kind of confusing."

"It's all in the inflection. Besides, I got them together."

"Over here, Jacob," says Daniel. "Now."

Jacob rolls his eyes. "Daniel hates strangers. I gotta go."

Jim watches as Jacob goes first towards Daniel and then towards Miriam when she calls to him. When the same voice that had started earlier starts singing the next song – a piece Jim doesn't recognize or understand – he has just enough wherewithal to notice that it's Daniel singing. _Damn,_ he thinks. _Two meters tall, great voice and Spock likes him. I'm screwed in every possible way._

He watches Jacob disappear for a scant minute and return with two glasses of water, which he hands to his moms as he whispers to Miriam. She gives him an odd look before moving enough to let him settle between her and her partner. The woman in blue leans in to the discussion and glances in Spock's direction, causing Jim to do the same because he can never _not_ glance at Spock, these days.

He turns back to see the girl in red, seated on a chair across the large room from the sofa, accepting a glass of something blue from Jacob. He's pretty sure he knows where this is going and he can't look, so he turns back to see Spock, still under Daniel's arm and more relaxed than Jim can remember ever seeing him with anyone, including Nyota. He suddenly would give anything for a glimpse of Spock with Amanda.

And then Jacob's tugging at his arm. "Mom wants to see you."

"Which one?"

"Mom."

Jim smiles and goes over to the couch. Both women are looking at him. "I understand that ... Mom wants to see me?"

"Jacob, you should be a little kinder to Jim," says Miriam. "He's never been here before and doesn't know your code for us." She looks up at Jim. "Although you were singing Maoz Tsur. Have you been to a Hanukkah celebration before?"

"Yeah. I had a friend in school who let me stay with him once when my folks were gone for the holidays. But I'm not of the faith and I can't remember anything beyond 'Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu, Melech HaOlam'."

"You pronounce it well," says the woman in blue. She takes down her head covering to reveal sandy-brown hair and pointed ears. "I am T'Put."

Kirk raises his hand in the Vulcan salute just as T'Put holds out her hand to shake. "You sure you don't mind?"

"If I minded, I would not have offered it."

"That is logical," says Kirk, shaking her hand.

T'Put inclines her head.

"May I ask ... are you Jewish?"

"I converted two point seven Terran years ago, when Miriam sought my hand in marriage."

"I would have wanted to marry her, regardless," Miriam supplies.

"Indeed. Miriam was most adamant that I remain non-Jewish."

"Isn't that part of the test when one is thinking of converting?" Jim asks.

"Yes," say both women.

"Jacob says he's the one who got you together."

"Jacob has many talents," says Miriam.

"Yes," says T'Put, in a way that only a Vulcan coping with annoyance can manage.

"Jim," says Miriam, lowering her voice, "the reason I wanted to talk to you is that we have a bit of a situation here. It seems that Jacob has invited Merete to spend the night," she glances over at the girl in red, "which means that we have lost a bed."

Jacob rolls his eyes. "It's no big deal! She can have the second bed in my room!"

"Honey, you're twelve and she's sixteen," says Miriam. "She should have her own room with some privacy. Right, Jim?"

Jim can't help admiring Jacob for his success at getting Merete to stay, but Miriam does have a point. "Yeah, she really should," he says with genuine sympathy for Jacob. "I could bunk in with you," he offers.

"I s'pose," Jacob allows.

"Well, here's the thing," says Miriam, flustered for the first time since Jim met her. "We only have four bedrooms and only Jacob's has two beds."

"So Spock can share with Daniel or Spock and I could have Jacob's room and Jacob could share with Daniel, right?"

"Daniel can't share a bed with anyone," says Miriam.

"Why not?" Jim asks.

"Because he kicks people," says Miriam.

"Yeah, and it hurts," says Jacob.

"Jacob spent three days in the hospital the last time he attempted to share a bed with Daniel," says T'Put.

"Wow," says Jim. "When did that happen?"

"I just got home today," says Jacob.

"So clearly, the logical solution is for Daniel and Jacob to share the room with two beds."

Jim's head whips around at Spock's voice. "I can sleep on the couch, Spock."

"No, you can't!" says Jacob. "It's too cold down here at night!"

"It does become quite cold when there's a storm," T'Put says.

"And there is a storm due to start in two hours and twenty-seven minutes," says Miriam.

Spock nods. "It was the same ten years ago."

"Well," says Jim, "I could sleep on the floor, if you don't mind me sharing a room with you, Spock."

There is a pause, during which Jim can see Spock processing his options.

"Spock? I could get a hotel—"

"I'm afraid not," Daniel says. "All the hotels that are open this week are sold out. I could make a joke about no room at the inn, but that's not my faith." He cracks a small, spreading, evil smile.

Jim can't help laughing. "Sorry, Daniel. I don't know you well enough, but ... that was good."

Daniel's smile disappears. "Glad you approve." He stalks out of the room.

"Jim," says Spock, "all in Starfleet have been trained to share a sleeping bag with another person. Sharing a bed designed for two people is luxurious by comparison."

"Good point. You sure you're okay if I'm that other person, though?"

"You are ... my friend."

Kirk shakes his head. "Okay," he says. Inwardly, he is groaning. _This is going to be a very bad night._

*****

The bed in the room they must share is bigger than Spock expected it to be. It also has a different frame from the one he remembers seeing when he was here last, when it was Amanda's room for the week.

"You sure you're okay with this, Spock?" Jim's voice is gentle, quiet and thirty-two point eight centimeters from Spock's left ear.

"Yes. Are you?"

"Yes. What side of the bed do you want?"

"I wish to sleep away from the window."

"Oh, that's right! Old house, old windows, cold winter. Sure, no problem! Just don't be surprised if I start cuddling up against you for warmth." Jim is pulling his sleeping wear from his travel bag.

"That would be acceptable."

Jim straightens instantly. "You serious?"

"Do you have objections to physical contact with other males?"

"No."

"With Vulcans?"

"Not unless they're choking me."

It is then that Spock understands viscerally the expression, 'having the wind knocked out of one'. "I believe that I have already apologized for that."

Jim rubs his forehead, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Spock. That was inappropriate. So here's the thing: I've had sex with men, women, non-gendered and multi-gendered beings. My only conditions are that it be consensual and non-lethal. All of which is to say that no, I have no objections to physical contact with other males. How about you?"

Spock isn't sure he can open his mouth for fear that his emotions will overtake him and ruin his fragile, impossibly valuable relationship with Jim. But when he breathes ... "I miss being touched."

"So do I."

Spock's senses are off. He is unsure who reaches for whom first and whose lips open first or which one grasps the other's clothing before the other reaches around taut arms to undo fastenings and remove cloth from skin, or who is more avid about stripping back the bedclothes while still hanging onto the other. But he knows at the precise moment of landing naked on the mattress that there is no undoing this and he doesn't care about anything except friction and heat and touch and connection and lust and loss and _love_ that needs expression and release and continuation. He can't touch Jim's face with his fingers for fear of melding, so he catalogs it with his lips and eyes and nose as he occupies one hand with Jim's penis and the other braces himself on the bed.

And then he is aware of Jim's hand on his penis and then their hands joined on both their penises and it is like nothing he has ever felt because he has never been with a male before in this way. And it is all-consuming and perfect except that he so desperately wants to meld but must not. And in his frustration and pent-up need, his orgasm is strong and reduces him to incoherence, so he doesn't notice until it's too late that Jim has taken his hand and is holding it to the meld points.

"Meld with me, Spock."

Spock cannot stop it. Though every fiber of him screams against it, he cannot stop the thing he wants most. And there is Jim in the meld, pleading just as strongly inside as outside. And all he can say to the pain he didn't know Jim carried is _Let me help._

 _Yes!_ Jim's orgasm is just as strong, his hand on Spock's face a more welcome touch than Spock had ever imagined. As they drift into sleep, all Spock can feel from both of them is

_Home_

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the following prompt:
> 
>  **Prompt 21:** When it becomes apparent during shoreleave on Earth over the Holidays that Jim has no-where to go, Spock invites him to visit with Amanda's sister and her family who are celebrating Hanukkah. Bonus points if one of Spock's cousins does some match-making to get the Enterprise command team together.
> 
> I am not Jewish, so had to make do with research and what my Jewish friends have told me. Reality checks from people who know better than I are very welcome and will be used to edit the story where necessary and possible.


End file.
